


Here Beside Me

by Mack_the_Spoon, Namarie



Series: Bloodlines [12]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4761383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mack_the_Spoon/pseuds/Mack_the_Spoon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namarie/pseuds/Namarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Liz's name is cleared, she and Don have the chance to settle down and live something like a normal life. That means the opportunity to make different decisions about a certain time of the year for Liz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First, sorry for the delay in posting this! We had this written for a while, but had to decide whether or not to wait because this takes place after everyone's not on the run anymore. We enjoy taking canon events and weaving them in to our story. But we decided that we'll just reserve the right to go back in our timeline and post more stories if S3 so inspires us!
> 
>  
> 
> This is a continuation of our Bloodlines AU. If you'd like to read the stories in that universe, [ here ](http://namarie24.livejournal.com/120242.html) is a link to the master list.

~~~~~~

“Can we decide this is a time when we ask someone else for advice? Like Leah, maybe?” Don said.

Liz sighed. “I thought of that. And I don't think it's a bad idea. We just have to decide how much less awkward it really would be. I mean Red _is_ family, and this is definitely a family thing. Leah is definitely not, although I'm glad to have her as a friend.” She ran her hands through her hair. “I think we're going to end up having to talk to them both. There's no way we're not letting Red know, but after that I think I'll ask Leah for, um, logistics ideas.”

Don blew out a breath. “I guess that makes sense. For something that's pretty simple in theory, this is kind of complicated.”

“I know,” said Liz, with a faint smile. “It's a good thing we agree that we both really want it, isn't it?”

His smile was full and genuine as he took both of her hands in his. “Yeah. Just in case I ever sound like I'm complaining, don't forget I'm the one who brought it up after your name was cleared.”

She freed one of her hands just to give his arm a mock-shove. “You were the first to say anything out loud, but that doesn't mean I hadn't been thinking about it.”

“Still.”

After a pause, Liz met his eyes squarely. “So. Are you ready to talk to Red now? I'd like to take a step today. I want to have things worked out well before July.”

“Let's... I mean, yes. Go ahead and call him,” said Ressler.

Her father wasn't far, so he responded immediately, and then arrived at their house not more than fifteen minutes later. “Good afternoon, Lizzie, Donald.”

“Hi,” said Liz. Impulsively, she hugged him. He returned the gesture, although she could feel his surprise. They were still not usually very demonstrative with each other, apart from times of crisis. “Um, come in. Can I get you something to drink?”

Red removed his hat and sat down in the living room. “Lizzie, you're anxious about something. You both are. Are you all right?”

Liz bit her lip and forced herself to sit down across from him rather than letting her nervous energy propel her around the room. Her husband sat next to her, and she took his hand. “We're both fine. I just – we just wanted to tell you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Tell me what?”

She exchanged looks with Don. Then she inhaled and took the plunge. “That we've decided that, come this July, we want to try to have a baby.”

Red's face paled, but his expression was one she rarely got to see – that most people rarely saw: a soft, wondering, genuine smile, coupled with eyes that she was certain glistened with tears. He cleared his throat. “Lizzie. That would... that makes me happier than I've been in a very long time.”

She smiled and blinked back her own tears. “Me, too.”

“And me,” put in Don, not unmoved.

“Of course,” said Red, wiping a hand across his face quickly. “And I'm honored that you're telling me.”

Liz looked down at her lap for a second before going on. “You're our family. You'll be... you'll be the baby's family, too.”

“Yes.” A hint of that smile reappeared again before he went on. “I assume you've also started to think ahead to the many facets that are involved in this decision?”

“Yeah, I know it's going to be kind of complicated,” she said. “I was going to call Leah Weston and see if she could give me some tips for, uh, the logistics of it.”

“Good,” said Red. “And naturally if you need any recommendations or assistance in matters of extra security or a location, I would be happy to help.”

Liz saw that Don looked mildly puzzled by this statement. _We might want to take him up on that. I'll talk to you about it later._ “Yeah.”

“Meanwhile, I'll let you make the call to Leah. But may I request the opportunity to take you both out to dinner tonight? It feels like a celebration is in order. For a number of reasons, not the least of which is that you're both clearly adjusting well to post-fugitive life.”

“Some days better than others, but yes,” said Liz.

After accepting her father's dinner invitation, Liz found her phone and scrolled to the number for Leah Weston. “Hi, Leah, it's Elizabeth Keen. Do you have some time to talk?” By tradition, when interacting with other dragons, she still used the last name with which she had been introduced to dragon society. Red had told her that was usually only changed when a dragon aged out of his or her human identity and switched to a new one.

“Elizabeth, it's good to hear from you! It's been a long time since we've had the chance to talk personally.”

Considering that their only interactions during the years she had been on the run had been a few messages passed through lower-level members of their organizations, that was certainly true. “Yes, it has, hasn't it?” They exchanged small talk for about a minute, until that led to Leah asking how she and Don were doing now. “Great. Actually, very good. That's... kind of why I called, other than to catch up. I was hoping to ask your advice.”

“Of course. How can I help?”

Liz reminded herself that Leah hadn't been at all embarrassed to have a conversation with her in person all those years ago on a similar topic. So she resolved not to be, either. “Don and I are hoping to have a baby. I wanted to ask a few questions, assuming you can share from your experience.”

Leah paused a moment. “Let me step away from this meeting. Just a second.”

“If you're busy, I can call back later,” Liz said quickly.

“No, don't worry about it. I appreciate the excuse not to sit in on this thing. All right. Go ahead and ask, and I'll do my best to answer.”

Liz took a breath. “Okay. First off, do you recommend going somewhere, away from... other people? Because I've thought about it, and it seems like things could get awkward, otherwise.”

Leah chuckled. “Yes, you have the potential to attract some undue attention no matter what, so getting out of town is a good idea. And you've probably also already thought of the necessity of some temporary tweaks to your security, on that note.”

“I have,” said Liz, “although I haven't been able to figure out which way to go.”

“Well, I can't tell you any perfect solution, but I can give you some guidelines,” Leah said, and told her what she had tried. She summarized with, “Basically, your guards for this need to be the best of the best in terms of trustworthiness.”

“I see,” said Liz. Good thing there was still plenty of time to call Samar and prepare her for this. It wouldn't be a normal assignment, that's for sure. As for other guards... She and Don would be doing a lot of talking. Red would be included, too, probably. “Thanks. Um, what about the amount of time? I mean, will we still be looking at a whole week?”

“It's probably better to plan a whole week to be away,” Leah said, and when she explained, Liz had to agree that sounded best. She added in a few things Liz hadn't brought up, as well.

“All right,” Liz said. “That's all I was going to ask, I think.” She allowed her ruefulness to show through in her tone. “Of course, there may still be issues I haven't thought of.”

“There may be, but I think we've gotten the most important ones,” Leah said.

“You think so?” asked Liz.

“I do,” Leah said promptly. “And I sympathize with you, on how complex this is.”

With a sigh, Liz agreed. Then, once they had said their farewells and hung up, she went to find her husband. Hopefully he wouldn't be too put off by all this.

~~~~~~

The conversation with Samar started out as awkward as she'd dreaded. She wasn't sure if it was more or less embarrassing than when she had first told Ressler, all those years ago, all about this. In some ways, that would always be one of the most awkward moments of her life, because she and her partner had already been attracted to each other for a while, and she'd feared that he might think she was using this facet of her life to come on to him somehow, among other crushingly awful possibilities. But with Samar, in this situation, a whole new realm of mortification opened up.

At least if the conversation had taken place in person, Liz would have been able to watch her friend's reactions. But since she was currently somewhere undisclosed, working a Mossad case, it had to be by phone. Maybe she didn't have to go into all the details yet, though, Liz thought. “Samar, do you think you could be in the US in July?”

“Perhaps,” said Samar. “When in July?”

“The 24th, for about a week at least,” Liz said.

“If I'm not mistaken, that's the same week that you or Ressler used to trade off disappearing somewhere each year, isn't it?” Samar said, after a pause.

“It is,” Liz confirmed. “I can't actually remember how much I told you about it.”

“All you said was that it was a dragon thing, and very personal.”

Liz sighed. “Yeah. So, I'm asking if you can come for that week for reasons that are personal to me and Don, too. We'll both need some people to watch our backs – people we trust.”

“Are you going to tell me more?” Samar asked, her tone curious.

Liz laughed weakly. “Oh, I will. I'm just trying to think of the least awkward way of doing this.”

There was another pause. “I don't want to guess and make things worse.”

Liz laughed again, more genuinely. “I appreciate that. Maybe I can give you the short version now, and if you can come, I'll tell you more later.”

“That sounds fair,” Samar said.

“Good. So, short version: for female dragons, apparently there's really only one week per year we can get pregnant. For me, it's that week. And, um, this year, that's what we want, Don and I.”

Another silence greeted her words. When Samar spoke again, Liz could hear her smile. “I'm happy for you, that you're in a place to want to take that step.”

“Thanks,” said Liz. Her heart still beat faster at the thought that this was real, that it really was a thing that was possible now.

“And I don't think I need to ask too many questions at this point as to why the two of you won't be able to stick with your usual security arrangements,” Samar went on, a knowing tone creeping into her voice. “Especially not why Don can't be your main bodyguard.”

Liz snorted softly. “Yeah, I don't think you need to ask, either.” If she hadn't still been so nervous about this whole thing, she might have made a joke about the kind of bodyguarding her husband would actually be doing during that time.

“Well. The advance notification is helpful. I should be able to get time away,” Samar said.

“That's – thank you, Samar. Thanks so much,” Liz said, trying not to babble in her relief.

“You're welcome, Liz. How are you all doing, adjusting back to normal life?”

“Normal life? What's that?” Liz wondered, shaking her head. “No, it's all right. It definitely doesn't feel normal, but we're doing okay.”

“No emergencies for the past few months, at least?” Samar asked.

“Not a one,” said Liz. “What about you? How are you?”

“I won't say there haven't been any emergencies, but none of them have been too unexpected, for this job,” she said.

“Yeah.” For a moment, Liz experienced a fervent, painful desire to still be in that world, to be Agent Keen again and face those insane, exciting, but yet almost predictable days. It was a desire that would never happen – that had been an important part of the terms of the expunging of her criminal record. The FBI was a lifetime ago. And she had plenty to look forward to now, in an entirely different kind of life. She cleared her throat. “Glad to hear it.”

With Samar confirmed, as she told Ressler later, that just left at least three others to pick. “I was actually thinking I would ask Red and Dembe if Dembe would be willing.”

Don raised his eyebrows. “That's not a bad idea.”

“And there's a woman, Erin, who's come with me a few times when I left for my season,” Liz went on. “If she's around, I would trust her for this.”

“Yeah, we've met. So, then we're almost there,” said Don.

“Almost,” Liz agreed. Her traitorous brain decided to take that moment to imagine what it would feel like if the two of them went to all this trouble and she didn't even get pregnant, after all. It wasn't even a worry she'd had when she'd been with Tom, since she had been set on adoption from the beginning. And it wasn't that she didn't still want to try adoption, either. It still felt important to her. But she knew that would be a long process – especially now that her and Don's background checks would be... more complicated. So if this didn't work, after all their preparation and getting their hopes up...

“Honey, what's wrong?”

“What?” She realized she had been zoning out.

“You look like you're expecting something terrible to happen,” said Don.

Liz mentally shook herself. “Sorry. Nothing's wrong. I'm just worrying. Being ridiculous.”

Understanding dawned in his eyes. “Ah. You're not starting to imagine worst case scenarios, are you?”

She blinked, then grimaced. “Um. Yes.”

“Hey, I've been doing that, too,” he admitted. “I think it's going to take us both a little while to get out of that habit.”

“Right. Perks of having been hunted,” Liz said. She took his hand. “I have gotten used to preparing for the worst.”

“As long as you don't forget the 'hope for the best' part, that's not a bad thing,” he pointed out. “Again, not that I'm saying I've been doing great at that, either.” He squeezed her hand.

“In this case, though, when you think about it?” Liz smiled at him. “It is actually ridiculous. I mean, what are we planning for? It's basically another honeymoon, right?”

Don grinned back. “I guess it is. And our first one was pretty damn fantastic, so you're right – definitely nothing to get worked up about now.”

Liz nudged him with her shoulder. “Although I can think of one kind of 'worked up' that sounds very good right now.”

He laughed. “Is that right?” He leaned forward, adding, “That's true. We wouldn't want to get out of practice.” Then he kissed her.

~~~~~~~

“I guess we can just have three people,” Liz said, a week later. She sighed. “And then we could just increase the number of people on the outer perimeter.”

“No,” Don insisted. “Liz, we're going to make sure we're safe. We're not going to just cross our fingers and hope it's good enough.”

Liz threw her hands up. “Then who else can we ask? I am absolutely not asking Harold Cooper to come out here for this. I mean, for trustworthiness, he's perfect, of course. Except for the small fact that having him here to guard us while we basically have sex for a week would be almost as bad as asking Red.”

Don made a face. “Yeah, I know. I would have suggested Cooper a while ago except for that very reason.” Then he took a breath. “But I think I do actually have an idea, if you're okay with it.”

“Don, if you have a plausible idea, I'm thrilled to hear it.” She ran a finger over the scar on her wrist. She didn't add, “We're running out of time,” but that was only because he already knew that, and it was only May, so that sounded overly dramatic.

Her husband scratched the back of his neck, and then spoke. “I was thinking about calling Deborah. Who used to work for Brendan Wilson.”

Liz blinked. “Who now works for Terrance Clark?”

“Yeah.”

Liz pondered the idea. “Well, I do agree she's pretty trustworthy.”

Don nodded. “And I doubt we'd have to do any explaining of the situation other than that it's for your season.”

Liz raised her eyebrows in acknowledgement. She was silent for a moment. “Sure. If you're all right with it, I am.”

“I'll give her a call.”

“If she can do this, that'll be great. Except I hope I don't freak out too much, in the moment, that three of our four guards are female.” She was joking. Mostly. She didn't actually know how much of a consideration that would be. Despite their brief, almost-slip-up that time in Morocco, neither she nor Don knew exactly what to expect of their own behavior toward others.

Don rolled his eyes. “I hope not, too. Since you're the one I want to have the kid with.”

He came to find her about an hour later, where she was sitting on their back porch, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. “Deborah passes on her greetings. And Rick's, too – apparently they got married not that long after Terrance took over his father's organization.”

Liz smiled. “That's nice to hear. And what did she have to say about our request?”

“She's happy to do it. And we were correct, that she didn't need a lot of explanation.” He sat down in the chair that was in the shade.

“How's she doing?” Liz asked, her eyes closed. There was plenty about her old territory that she missed, but the sun in Arizona couldn't be beat.

“From what she said, it sounds like she and Rick are happy,” said Don. “They have a three-year-old now.”

Liz opened her eyes and sat up. “She has a kid? Is she still doing security, then?”

“Part-time,” said Don, “now that their son is old enough to be in preschool for part of the week.”

“So I'm not asking her to go back to something dangerous that she's given up for her son?”

Don frowned. “Don't you think she would have just said 'no' if she wasn't doing this anymore?”

“I guess,” said Liz. “I was just afraid she might feel obligated.”

“That's definitely not the impression I got,” said Don.

“Okay,” she said, lying back down but not closing her eyes. She couldn't help feeling less relaxed. She knew it wasn't even that likely that anyone would find or trouble them during this. Yet the idea of endangering someone's wife, someone's mother, was disquieting. Don was right, though – it wasn't like she was twisting Deborah's arm. “I imagine she had to ask her boss first, though, right?”

“She didn't think there was any reason Terrance would need her for that week.”

“Good,” she said, and forced herself to stop worrying. Instead, she closed her eyes again.

After a moment, she heard his voice again, affectionate. “You look like you never want to move again.”

“Mmm,” she agreed. “This does feel good.” A few breaths later, she added, “But you can go inside and turn on the A/C if you're too hot.”

“I know,” he said. “And I do think you should be aware that it's well over ninety degrees, and that's crazy.”

Liz snorted, and cracked open her eyelids. “Just wait. This is the desert. In a few hours, it'll be something chilly like seventy-five.”

“Crazy,” Ressler repeated, shaking his head.

“Yep,” said Liz, deliberately misunderstanding him. “How does anyone stand it?”

He stood up. “Anyway. I'm going to dig up something to make for dinner. You have a nice time basking, Reptile Woman.”

She opened her eyes wide at that. “Excuse me?” He had already turned around to go inside, but she grabbed the sunglasses from her lap and chucked them at his retreating back.

“Ow!” He turned around and picked up the offending article. “You're lucky these didn't break, you know.”

Liz shook her head. “And you're lucky that's all I had within reach.”

He just grinned, and then disappeared inside.


	2. Chapter 2

~~~~~~

Liz knew she was noticeably, irrationally tense as the car got closer to their destination, but it was impossible to relax. Erin and Dembe, already at the house, had reported an hour ago that there was nothing notable at the scene and everything looked fine. She wasn't exactly nervous. There wasn't anything to be nervous about. It was just... well, if she was honest with herself, nothing was actually wrong. It was just that there was only one solution to her tension. That they would be taking care of starting tomorrow. Or perhaps earlier. Most likely earlier, in fact.

Don shot her a look as they got to their own checkpoint outside the lane. “I have to ask, Liz: I thought we had until tomorrow, before...” He trailed off, and gestured between the two of them.

She shrugged. “Me, too. But apparently, not so much.”

The men at the guard post nodded at them, and the car turned down the gravel lane. That was when Samar spoke up. “Thank God. I mean, this is undoubtedly awkward for us all, but I was beginning to think I was imagining it.”

“You mean the feeling that if something doesn't happen soon, you might explode?” Deborah asked. “Nope, I think we can all feel that.”

Liz bit her lip and resisted the urge to apologize. It was less awkward if she kept silent. In fact, maybe it would be best if she didn't even look at anyone. Especially not Don. She stared out the window silently until they pulled up in front of the house.

“All right,” said Samar, breaking the silence. “Anything else we should know?”

Liz still resolutely didn't move her gaze to meet anyone else's. “Just a reminder not to... get close, unless you have to.” She had already explained to their guards that it was a precaution. She sighed shortly. “Better start tonight, with that.”

“Copy that,” Samar said. She cleared her throat. “I'm afraid I honestly can't think of any leave-taking comment that is appropriate here.”

Looking up at that, Liz met Samar's eyes in the rearview mirror and smiled faintly. “I get that. So let's just say, we'll see you at the end of the week and hopefully not before.”

“Sounds good,” said Deborah. The two other women got out of the car, leaving Don and Liz alone.

“Ready to go?” he asked finally.

Liz's smile grew. “Don't you think we should wait until we're inside, first?”

He pretended to glare, but it quickly turned into a laugh. “If we're to the stage where everything is a double entendre, then we'd better get inside right now.”

“Yeah,” she said. She did vastly prefer the idea of this tension being kept between the two of them, where it belonged. Raising an eyebrow and holding his gaze, she added, “Let's do it.”

~~~~~~

If she'd had the capacity to make mental notes, Liz might have tried to remember to ask who had stocked their fridge and freezer with pre-made meals that were filling as well as quick and easy to heat. Delivery, she'd been well aware since weeks before, would not be a great option. But it was hard enough to focus on something else long enough to eat, much less imagine cooking. Along those lines, it was also good that they had plenty of paper plates and bowls, and disposable cutlery. She didn't think either of them would have the patience for washing dishes anytime soon (even in a dishwasher). Although they weren't using a lot of those, either. She wasn't even using her own chair at the moment.

“Don?” she asked, as she swallowed the bite of lasagna that she'd taken off the one fork they were sharing.

“Mmm?” he said, snagging the utensil back from her.

“Is it weird? That I'm.... I'm kind of doing this to you?” This wasn't the first time they'd talked about the idea, but it was different when it was actually happening.

He raised his eyebrows as he chewed the bite he'd just taken. She ran her hand across his forehead and into his bangs. It was impossible to keep her hands off him, even though she was currently draped over him like a blanket. “Liz,” he said when he had swallowed, “it's not like I'm being forced to do anything I don't want to do.”

She kissed him because he was irresistible, and then pulled back, remembering what they were talking about. “You're sure it's not weird, though? Because this has already been more overwhelming than even I had imagined.” Even the one cup of chamomile tea she was drinking every day at Leah's recommendation barely took the edge off.

“Not overwhelming in a bad way,” he said easily, and set down the fork so he could stroke her bare shoulders.

His fingers edged closer to her bra straps and she closed her eyes for a moment at the sensation. Even when the two of them were doing something else, it seemed like all of her senses had been dialed up several notches. “I know we're both having fun. I do know that. It's impossible not to know that.”

“Then there's nothing to worry about,” he said, and reached around her to dig out another forkful of lasagna. Then he paused, and looked into her eyes. “I always want you. No one and nothing is going to make that more or less true. You know that, right?”

She grinned. “Okay. You can keep saying it, though. Just like I'll keep telling you how much I feel the same.” She kissed him again. _Mmm. It tastes even better this way,_ she told him, while both of their tongues were otherwise occupied.

He dropped the fork, both his thoughts and the feel of him against her proclaiming that he agreed completely. They could reheat their dinner later. She had the vague idea that the chair might also need repairs by the time they'd gotten up and stumbled to a more comfortable surface to continue.

~~~~~~

By the evening of their third day at the house, Liz was starting to be sure that the urgency had passed. She still had no desire to leave and do something else with the remaining days they had planned for, and she doubted that Don did, either. But, as she told her husband after they woke up from their long afternoon nap, the lack of urgency had a very significant meaning. “From what Leah told me, that could mean I'm already pregnant.”

His answering smile lit up the bedroom. “You think so?” he asked, his voice soft.

She nodded, feeling tears spring to her eyes. Clearing her throat, she glanced down at where he had grabbed her hand in his. “It's, um, not one hundred percent. We'll still want to get some tests, of course. But yeah, I think so.”

His free hand touched her chin gently, and eased her face up to look at his. “That's the best news.”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “It is.”

He seemed content to just look into her eyes for a minute, although he also wiped away the happy tears that had fallen on her cheeks. Then he breathed in sharply. “Wait, but that doesn't mean that if we keep, uh, doing what we've been doing, we could hurt –?”

“No,” she cut in quickly, shaking her head. “There's no reason to worry about that.” She had been glad to have Leah's definitive response and explanation on that issue, too. “I mean, if you think about it, the fact that these pheromones are still here, and we're still feeling them, even though it's less than we did before? It would be a really bad thing if our instincts led to damaging the baby we want to make.”

“That makes sense,” Don said. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “And I'm glad to hear it.”

She laughed softly. “Me, too. Because I still don't feel ready to share you with anyone else.”

“No way,” he agreed, his voice dropping lower. “Not any part of you.” He moved to illustrate the comprehensiveness of his statement with his hands, until she gasped and couldn't take it anymore. All of her nerves sparking somewhere beyond pleasure, she retreated from him just the smallest amount. Then she retaliated with her hands on him, and was rewarded when he gasped and groaned. But apparently they still didn't have much ability to draw things out this week, even now. Or at least, he certainly wasn't acting like he wanted to. So when he reached to take off the nightshirt she was wearing, she was only too willing to continue to speed along the process.

~~~~~~

They had just started to eat a late lunch on Thursday when Ressler's phone rang from where it had been lying untouched on the coffee table the whole week. He frowned and went to pick it up. “It's Dembe.”

Liz stood and went over to him. “You'd better answer.”

He did, and his frown deepened as the man on the other end spoke. “How long before we know whether we have to move?”

Now she was genuinely worried, and also annoyed. She knew no one would be bothering them with anything insignificant. But she was having a hard time suppressing her irritation at the interruption. Almost unconsciously, she took Don's hand that wasn't holding the phone and held it tightly.

“All right. Well, I guess we'll try to be ready. Keep us posted,” Don said, hanging up.

“What is it?” She didn't want to let go of him.

“He said there's a wildfire that may blow this direction. And if it does, we'll have to evacuate, obviously.”

Liz clenched her jaw. “I don't want to...” She stopped herself, and sighed. “I mean, I'm not going to be stupid about this, but I – it's not nothing, the warning I gave everyone not to get close. Not even today.” She tried to picture sitting in a car with Don and anyone else – especially Erin, Samar, or Deborah – without feeling jealous, and didn't make much progress.

“I know,” Don said quietly. He laced his fingers through hers. “It might not happen.”

“I really hope it doesn't,” she said. She tilted her head and reached her hand up, drawing his face closer so she could put her lips to his. It was a little more forceful than she'd intended, but he wasn't startled. In fact, his thoughts seemed to be running along the same lines as hers. _I know,_ she said silently, her hands in his hair now. _I'm yours. You're mine. I'm not ready for anyone else yet, either._ She pressed herself up against him. _And if we have to leave, even to save our lives, it's still going to be hard._

She could tell Don agreed. But then he pulled himself away, gently but firmly. Panting, his hands still on her, he said, “I almost forgot. Dembe said we'll have about two hours, at the most, before we'll know whether we have to move.”

Liz swallowed, catching her breath. “Fine. I guess we should eat?”

This time it was him pulling her closer. “We have time for both.”

~~~~~~

Their lunch was finally over, about two hours later, when Ressler's phone rang again. This time, the two of them were simply sitting together on the couch. Don exchanged glances with her before he picked the phone up and answered. “So?” He listened for several seconds, then said, “Understood. Thanks.”

“And?” Liz asked, immediately after he'd hung up.

“The wind changed direction. We're probably good for now, although everyone's still going to keep an eye on it, and he'll let us know if the situation gets dangerous again.”

Liz blew out a breath. “Good.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. After a long minute of comfortable silence, she spoke again. “Do you have any ideas for names? For the baby?”

She could feel his breathing speed up under her. “Not really. I hadn't even... I mean, I wondered what last name you'd want for him or her.”

“Yours.” She shifted so she could put an arm around behind him.

“Really? Just like that?”

“Yep,” she said. “I never went back to my maiden name after Tom because 'Keen' wasn't really his, either. And I didn't take yours right away when we got married partly because the legal process seemed like it would have been so complicated while we were on the run. Also because I still call you 'Ressler' sometimes, so that would be weird.” She turned her head so she could see at least part of his face. It seemed like he was with her so far. “But I'm still glad we're 'the Resslers' to everybody around here who isn't a dragon. And our kids should have the name of the man who's been with me through all of that. Besides, I wouldn't want to saddle them with such an obvious connection to a former federal fugitive.”

Ressler sighed. “Your record was expunged, Liz.”

She kissed the area above his collar bone where it was visible. “But it's not gone. Anyone can find mention of it pretty easily.”

“Then they can find mine, too,” he pointed out, and put one of his arms around her, as well.

“Yeah, but yours doesn't include any treason or suspicion of murder,” she said. “Anyway. I don't want to argue about which one of us has more baggage.”

He scoffed. “If only because that would be a long and depressing argument.”

She nodded against him. “Exactly. But you're not actually complaining about the idea of us giving our kids your name, are you?”

His arm tightened around her. “No. Of course I'd be thrilled. Just as long as you know I think they'll be proud of their mom.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

“So,” he said after another short pause, “do you want a girl or a boy?”

“I don't know,” she confessed. Then, tired of not being able to look at him but not wanting to lose the body contact, she sat up just long enough to turn and lie down with her head in his lap, looking up at him. She smiled again. “Eventually, I want at least one of each.”

The soft smile on his face made her reach up to trace his cheek with her fingers. “Me, too,” he said. Then he turned to kiss her hand, and put one of his hands lightly on her belly. “So how soon can we know?”

“The gender?” She laughed. “I think confirmation that I'm pregnant generally comes first.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I get that.”

“I'd have to check, but I think it's supposed to be eleven or twelve weeks.”

“I guess I can wait that long,” he said.

She laughed again. “Guess you'll have to.”

They were quiet for another few minutes before Don spoke again. “And I guess we'll have a lot longer to wait before our kid changes for the first time, right?”

Liz stared up at him. “Oh.” Now this was a question she hadn't exactly anticipated, although she realized she should have. She'd been a little vague when the topic had first come up, a long time ago. “Um, I'm pretty sure any kids of ours won't be dragons. You're pureblood human, as far as we know. And my mother wasn't a dragon, and one of Red's parents was human.” She hadn't ever actually asked, but he'd told her he'd transformed for the first time at around the same age that she had, which meant he couldn't have been hatched. (And boy was that still an incredibly weird concept to imagine.) “I guess I kind of thought you already knew. I shouldn't have assumed.”

Several different emotions passed over her husband's face. “No, I didn't know. You... you don't mind?”

“Mind what?” Liz blinked. Then she frowned. “Mind that our kids won't be dragons? I thought it was pretty clear how much I want to have children with you.” She swallowed, sitting up and crossing her arms. “Maybe it wasn't, though, if you even have to ask.”

“Liz, no,” said Don quickly. He rubbed a hand down her arm. “You're right, that was a stupid question. I just – give me a second to adjust, okay?”

She met his eyes, then sighed. “Okay.” She didn't want to spoil the perfection that this week had been made up of, so far. “I'm sorry. I guess I'm surprised you didn't ask earlier, when we were deciding to – to do this.”

“I just assumed,” he admitted, echoing her earlier statement. “But I shouldn't have, either. I mean, I did meet Frank Vandenberg, as hesitant as I am even to mention him. And we know Colleen Kent, too.”

Liz grimaced. “There is no way we're going to have a child anything like either of them.”

“God, no. Definitely not,” said Don, looking disgusted at the idea. “All I meant was that I should have thought about children of dragons without enough dragon blood to transform, and I should have brought it up with you.”

“I should have, too,” Liz said. “Just to make sure we were on the same page.” She wanted to ask him if he was disappointed, but that would have been hypocritical. “But, just so you're sure now, I'll tell you: I love you, and I won't just _not mind_ if our children take after you in all kinds of ways – I'll be ecstatic.”

Don's expression softened. He scooted closer to her and kissed her. “I love you, too. And I'll love our kids, and I'm pretty sure I'll love them even more whenever they remind me of you.”

Now she felt teary, but in a very good way. She sniffed, and then got back into his lap, straddling him this time. _That was a good answer. Now, just how sure are you that it's your children I want?_

His pupils already dilated, he told her, “Oh, I'm sure. But that doesn't mean I couldn't use more proof.”

_Good, 'cause that's what I was counting on,_ said Liz, capturing his mouth with hers. _We're not done here yet._ She got no disagreement from him on that.

Later, however, Liz pondered the issue again. Maybe she had assumed too quickly that she knew enough about how dragon bloodlines worked – or enough about her own, anyway. It was undoubtedly true that one of Red's parents had to have been human, but maybe he or she had been part-dragon; in which case, was there a chance she and Don could have dragon children, after all? The fact that she wasn't sure made her resolve to ask her father when the week was over. And she probably ought to admit to Don that she wasn't as sure as she had thought. At least now that she already knew he had expected their kids to be dragons, she could be certain he was all right with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of you would probably like some actual M sections for this fic - sorry! This is as smutty as it gets for us. Hopefully your imagination can fill in the rest. :)


	3. Chapter 3

~~  
A very, very small part of Don's mind was aware enough to be glad that they had thought ahead to have their luggage delivered before they arrived. The rest of his thoughts – and Liz's, too, judging by her behavior – were devoted to what they came here for. Pretty much the minute they stepped inside the door of the house where they would be staying, Don's sole focus was on his wife, and hers was on him. He had thought before they arrived that he would be letting her take the lead most of the time, since, after all, she was the one whose pheromones or whatever were driving this. But that didn't always turn out to be the case: they seemed to be affected almost equally. And besides, it wasn't like they didn't have enough time to switch things up.

Over the course of the first two days, looking back later, Don was fairly certain the two of them spent exactly zero percent of the time fully clothed. Sure, they often had some articles of clothing on – sometimes more than one each – but this didn't usually last very long if they were awake. And the sex itself was incredible, every single time.

On the third morning, Don opened his eyes slowly, aware that Liz was pressed up against him and still asleep. He had his arm around her, and he didn't want to wake her up. He smiled faintly. There was more than one reason why he didn't want to wake her. One of them was that he could really use a little more time to rest. Whenever they were both awake, the likelihood of them deciding to resume their very pleasurable activities increased dramatically. The prediction she had once made about this had definitely been true so far: she had been pretty single-minded since they got here, and so had he. And they had been having a very good time. Such that they had both been getting a real workout.

He craned his neck to look at the clock on the bedside table, and blinked in surprise. It was almost ten in the morning. For the past two mornings, neither of them had found themselves able to sleep in past eight. There was always a certain something else they both felt the need to be doing. And he did mean _need_. But now, even when he looked down at his sleeping wife, almost half on top of him, he didn't feel the same urgency that had been driving him. And he wasn't totally sure, but he didn't think that was only because she was asleep.

At that moment, Liz stirred and stretched, mumbling something that sounded like it might include his name. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“Hey, good morning,” Don said with a smile, using the hand that wasn't still holding her to stroke her face.

Liz blinked slowly and moved so that she was even closer to him. “Morning,” she said. She kissed him on the crook of his neck, then sighed sleepily. Her breath tickled him, and he wrapped his other arm around her. “I don't want to get up yet,” she said, almost inaudible. “You?”

Resisting the urge to make any sort of joke with her statement, Ressler said, “Nah, I'm fine where we are.”

They were quiet for long enough that Ressler wondered if she'd fallen back to sleep. His own eyes had begun to drift shut again when she said, “It feels-- I feel a little different this morning.”

“Hmm.” He stroked his hand along her back. “How so?”

“I feel like...” She trailed off, and brought her own hand up to lay it on his shoulder. “Like we can maybe take things a little slower for the rest of the week, if we want.”

He nodded, knowing she would feel it, and said, “That's kind of how I was feeling, too.”

“Good.”

He grinned, then, and waited until her breathing had slowed enough that he could guess she was almost asleep before he said, “I guess I finally tired you out, huh?”

There was a moment of silence, and then she very deliberately pressed down on his chest as she pushed herself up to look into his face. “Really? Is that how you think it went?” She was smiling as she leaned down to give him a kiss that was decidedly not a sweet, lazy, let's-slow-down kind of kiss. It didn't take long at all for all of him to be very awake.

When they broke apart, he stared up at her, panting and wanting nothing more than to keep going. “You're right,” he said, voice husky, “it wasn't me.”

“Let's just say it's been a mutual effort,” Liz said, also breathing heavily. Her pupils were dilated, and her expression was enough to drive him to close the distance between them.

Somewhere during the next few minutes, Ressler cleared his mind enough to try to communicate without speaking that he was fine with waiting until later to slow things down. Based on Liz's laugh and the way she continued with enthusiasm, she agreed.

When Liz told him, later that day, that she thought she might already be pregnant (and that was why they both could slow down and take things easier), he couldn't keep the smile off his face. Sure, he knew they needed confirmation from a doctor, but this was a very good indicator. Their child might already be growing, right here, as he and his wife talked about him or her.

The idea that it could be just a matter of months until he met his child occurred to Don frequently over the course of the rest of the week. He had never really decided, even as they planned this getaway, whether he wanted a girl or a boy. He didn't think Liz had, either. But they had time to think about it – and he knew they'd both be thrilled either way.

Meanwhile, although they did take it a little slower after that morning, Don found that they were both still very happy to spend the rest of the week only in each other's company. She didn't seem to want to be away from him for more than a few minutes at a time, and he felt the same. It was a little odd, if he tried to think about it objectively. But it wasn't like it was permanent, he knew, and this time was after all set aside just for them. He intended to take full advantage of it.

And he was glad no one else would be interrupting them, either. He was forced to imagine that occurrence, when Dembe called that Thursday. Thinking about anyone else being near them was enough to make him want to pick Liz up bodily and carry her into their bedroom, locking the door behind them – and he knew that right now, she wouldn't even protest that ridiculous amplification of his possessive and protective tendencies at all. But thankfully he had enough ability to think logically by this time that he held himself back. After all, this was Liz's safety Dembe had called about – Liz's and his own.

It was still a huge relief for several reasons when Dembe called back to tell them the wildfire threat had passed. He put the phone back down on the coffee table after he'd told Liz the news, and joined her on the couch. She rested her head on his shoulder.

They sat together, each lost in their own thoughts, for a while. Then Liz asked, “Do you have any ideas for names? For the baby?”

The baby. The kid they were going to have, if all went well, in nine months. He still felt a jolt every time he thought about this. “Not really,” he told her in answer. It wasn't like he hadn't considered the question at all yet, but it was part of a larger set of questions that needed a lot of thought and input from both of them. He decided to get one of them out of the way right now. “I hadn't even... I mean, I wondered what last name you'd want for him or her.”

She didn't hesitate before saying she wanted it to be his last name. He followed her reasoning for that just fine until she said she didn't want to use hers because, “I wouldn't want to saddle them with such an obvious connection to a former federal fugitive.”

“Your record was expunged, Liz,” he reminded her, glancing down at her face. She had said it in a normal, conversational tone, but he knew the fact that she had been considered a criminal for so long still hurt her.

“But it's not gone,” she returned. “Anyone can find mention of it pretty easily.”

His expunged record was just as easy to find, he had to point out then. Not that either of them wanted to have a long argument about this whole thing.

“But you're not actually complaining about the idea of us giving our kids your name, are you?” Liz asked.

He couldn't have restrained the pride that idea gave him if he'd tried. “No. Of course I'd be thrilled.” But he made sure she knew he expected their kids would be proud of her, as well.

To his next question of whether she wanted a boy or a girl, she told him she didn't know. She did say she wanted at least one of each, to which he agreed wholeheartedly. He rested one hand on her belly. It was still amazing to think that their child might be right here, at this moment, with them.

His thoughts turned to the more distant future. He realized he should probably confirm when they should expect their kid to have his or her first transformation, too, since he hadn't asked her about that yet. But when he asked, she looked up at him from where she was lying in his lap with a strange expression on her face.

“Oh." She frowned slightly, and shifted position as she told him she was pretty sure that wouldn't be an issue: their kids would probably not be dragons. “You're pureblood human, as far as we know. And my mother wasn't a dragon, and one of Red's parents was human.” Still with that odd look, she went on that she had assumed he'd known, which she realized now was a mistake.

“No, I didn't know,” Don said. She didn't sound upset about this, exactly, but he found himself feeling something like guilt. He had never thought he would so completely dilute her family's dragon heritage. But now, to hear this news from her... “You … you don't mind?”

“Mind what?” Then Liz glared at him and sat up. “Mind that our kids won't be dragons? I thought it was pretty clear how much I want to have children with you. Maybe it wasn't, though, if you even have to ask.”

This had the potential to go downhill rapidly. Don hurried to assure her that wasn't what he meant, and that it had been stupid to even ask such a question. “Just-- give me a second to adjust, okay?” If she was okay with this, he could be, too.

“Okay.” The tension left her, and she apologized. “I guess I'm surprised you didn't ask earlier, when we were deciding to – to do this.”

He heard himself say what she had just said, that he had assumed. But it wasn't like he didn't already know of counterexamples to that assumption, though neither Frank Vandenberg nor Colleen Kent were pleasant to think about.

Liz agreed that this was a topic about which they both should have checked to make sure they were on the same page. “But just so you're sure now,” she said, meeting his eyes, “I'll tell you: I love you, and I won't just _not mind_ if our children take after you in all kinds of ways – I'll be ecstatic.”

Well, there was no way he wasn't going to kiss her after that. It wasn't like he could speak at that moment, anyway. “I love you, too,” he told her once they broke apart, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. He pictured two or three little kids running around their house, who looked and acted like this woman who meant so much to him. He couldn't imagine anything more perfect. “And I'll love our kids, and I'm pretty sure I'll love them even more whenever they remind me of you.”

Liz was very happy with that answer, evidently. And so was Don, when she demonstrated her happiness by climbing into his lap for a very specific purpose.

~


	4. Chapter 4

~~~~~~

No news about the fire seemed to be good news for the rest of their planned stay. On Sunday morning, Liz woke up from a dreamless sleep and knew her season was over. Her head felt clearer, and the main desire she felt was for some breakfast. Still, as she sat up, careful not to wake her husband, she looked at him with a pang. This experience had been amazing – not only because the sex had without question been the best she'd ever had, but also because she knew she and Don were closer than ever through sharing this week. It would be bittersweet to leave, and go back to the real world.

The sweetness was what was coming, though, she thought to herself. She stood and put on a robe. It was especially important that she eat well now, and the thought was enough to send a jolt of adrenaline through her.

“Hey,” said Don, voice groggy, just as Liz was about to leave the bedroom. “Where are you going?”

She turned. “I'm just going to get some breakfast. You don't have to get up if you don't want to.”

He blinked and sat up, running a hand through his hair. “No, give me a sec and I'll join you.”

Liz remembered that there was something in the freezer labeled 'oven French toast' that they hadn't gotten to yet, and she thought it would be a shame not to try it. “Does this sound good?” she asked, when she'd pulled it out.

“Sounds perfect,” Don agreed. “As long as we also make some bacon.”

“I'm never going to argue with bacon,” said Liz.

The morning was much less... heated than it had been. But the food was delicious, and Liz didn't mind being able to focus on it enough to have seconds of everything. Plus, she and Ressler were free to continue their discussion about children without being too distracted.

“I asked you about baby names but I haven't told you the few ideas I have,” she said, taking the last piece of bacon off the serving dish.

“Whoa there, who said you could have that?” Don interrupted with a scowl.

“Oh, I don't know, the fact that I'm ninety-five percent sure I'm carrying your child, maybe?” She beamed at him and took a bite.

He sighed theatrically. “God, and I have nine more months of this ahead of me?”

She snorted. “Yeah, me growing a person inside my body is going to be so difficult for you. Now do you want to hear my ideas, or what?”

“I do,” he said, still eyeing the bacon sadly as it disappeared.

“It's not like I already have a list of complete options, or anything,” she said. Then she looked out the window and cleared her throat. “Basically all I want to suggest is that if we have a boy, that we give him the name Samuel as a middle name.” She had to look at him again by the time she was done.

Understanding filled his eyes. “I'm good with that.”

“Yeah?”

He reached across the table to take her hand. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” She blinked a few times, and then added, “Don't worry. I won't insist that his first name be Raymond.”

Don choked on the piece of French toast he had just swallowed, then caught his breath. “I can only imagine what that would do to your father's ego.”

Liz smirked, then shook her head. “Yeah, that's just unnecessary.”

~~~~~~

By the time they had finished dinner, and were ready to pack up to go home, Liz was flagging. She felt as sleepy as if she had just gone hunting (which was something she would most likely not be doing for a while). When Don came into the bedroom and heard her yawn as she knelt to put the last item of clothing back in her suitcase, he came over to her. “Are you okay, Liz?”

She glanced up at him. “I'm just tired all of a sudden.”

“You can rest if you need to,” he told her, concerned. “I can get your other things.”

“I'm really okay,” she protested. “Besides, I like to pack my toiletries in a specific way.”

He gave her a dubious look, and held out a hand to her.

“My balance shouldn't be off yet,” she grumbled, but accepted it nonetheless to stand up. “Seriously, though, I'm fine.” But the yawn that escaped her as soon as she was upright wasn't convincing him.

“Honey, pack up your stuff the way you want it, and then lie down before you fall down,” he said. “I'll wake you up when the car gets here.”

She nodded reluctantly. It was late in the day for a nap, but she didn't think she'd be able to resist. “Sorry. This seems like a waste of our last hour or so together here.”

“I'll live,” he said. Then he kissed her gently. “And I'm pretty sure that when I think back on this week in the future, I won't care about one hour when you were asleep and I wasn't.”

She was still foggy when Don woke her, and not sure how refreshing the sleep had actually been. But she picked up her bag and went with him silently. Downstairs, he turned to her. “Ready?”

She sighed. “I guess so. Wish I felt more awake.”

“Well, we did both do a lot of physical activity this week,” Don said, with a smile.

That drew a smile from her, too. “We did. And either it's crashing down on me harder than you, or this is the first taste of how much energy I'm going to have for the next nine months.”

“We'll see,” he said. “Anyway, our ride is waiting.”

Liz thought she was successful in summoning up some enthusiasm as she greeted Dembe (who was driving) and Samar. She was honestly pleased to see them. “Where are the others?”

“Deborah's son just came down with a cold, and Erin said she needed to head out, too, so they left together a little over an hour ago. They both pass on their well wishes,” said Samar.

Reminding herself to send them both some kind of thank-you, Liz nodded and climbed into the back seat with Don. “Besides the fire, anything interesting happen for you guys?”

Samar shook her head. “Not really. I believe there was one minor incident with some kids who told the guards on the outer perimeter that they were lost. But nothing came of that, and it's been pretty peaceful.”

“Good,” said Liz. She made sure both Dembe and Samar were looking at her when she went on, “Thank you, both of you, so much for this. I know it was, um, an unusual request. But it means a lot that you would help.”

“You're both very welcome,” said Samar. “I won't be nosy, but I hope we hear good news sometime soon from you.”

Liz smiled at Don, but didn't say anything.

Dembe cleared his throat. “I am honored that you asked, Elizabeth. And I wish you both the best.”

Liz drifted off to sleep after that, but it was with a feeling of deep affection for these friends without whose loyalty and kindness she couldn't imagine where she and her husband would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your kind comments on this story - and your patience before we posted! We still have more to come in this universe. (Actual baby!fic is in the works!)


End file.
